


Symbiosis

by Betz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Budding D/s relationship, Cunnilingus, F/M, Infidelity, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation Kink, cherry blossom kiss, hp crossgenfest, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betz/pseuds/Betz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron is not keeping up with his husbandly duties, so Hermione seeks someone who can get the job done and not waste her time with unnecessary romance. Fortunately, there is an unsentimental vampire out there who takes care of her needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** #H22 http://hp-crossgenfest.livejournal.com/14306.html?thread=180962#t180962 by lrthunder: “Vampire!Snape. He goes to her for the blood; she goes to him for the sex. It's a strictly business relationship that works.”  
>  **Author's Note:** Yeah, lrthunder implied that it's just a cut-and-dry business transaction, but in time there is a bit of something there. Thanks to the wonderfully helpful JuneW who betaed this fic.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and associates. No copyright infringement intended.

Waving to Hugo and Rose, Hermione and Ron watched as the Hogwarts Express pulled away, taking their youngest off to his first year at the school, and his sister to her third year. Hugo would no doubt be sorted into Gryffindor by the end of the night, like his parents and sister, especially after hearing Ron’s threat to disown his son if he ended up in Slytherin.

Looking at her husband on the platform, Hermione knew that with Rose and now Hugo gone off to school, there was little to tether them to each other. Tonight, Ron would most probably be either drinking at the pub to celebrate the sorting of their youngest or spending another night in Draco's or Romilda's bed; he no longer had to be discreet since their youngest was now out of the house.

While Ron took care of Hermione's bedroom needs in a perfunctory fashion, she ached for something more fulfilling than a rare obligatory fuck. And while her younger self might have been aghast at the idea of her taking on a lover, Hermione was still too busy – working and climbing ladders in the Ministry – to put the considerable effort into an extramarital relationship. No, she needed a much less entangled arrangement that could still satisfy her needs, one that would cut to the chase without the bother of romance (that was a time suck!) or the risk of becoming too complicated.

 

There was no light save for The Fountain of Fair Fortune pub that was at the top of Horizont Alley, its golden hued light painting skewed rectangles of gold on the gray pavers. Prowling the far corners of the alley, Severus spied another fly that had willingly traipsed into his web. It was yet another odd witch who sought the thrill of being shagged by a vampire. Tales had recently spread about a vampire who had been rumored to lurk about this very part of the alley in the dark of night. Whoever his prey was, she had probably been lured there by stories of his seductive powers, no doubt.

To his experienced eyes, the witch was probably in her late thirties, which meant she was not a silly goose looking for romance and roses. As she walked down the uneven cobblestone street, he saw her looking about at all the shops' darkened windows, yet holding her wand tightly; he liked that she was no dunderhead who believed that all vampires were as tame as the one that Professor Slughorn displayed to his Slug Club. 

She gasped as a looming figure emerged from the darkest corner. 

“Did I startle you?” he asked in a soothing tone meant to convey that he was no immediate threat to her.

“No,” Hermione said as she stood up a bit straighter, jutting her chin up proudly.

It was there, under the muted light of a gibbous moon hiding behind a cloud, that he recognized her with his preternatural eyes. She was older, much older than when he last saw her.

Had that much time really passed? He knew the year was 2018, having not lost track of time like many others with his condition had. After a quick calculation in his mind, he determined that she was at about the same age as he’d been when he was baptized unwillingly into this other life, this half life, in between the living and the daisy fertilizer.

“My, my,” he said with a throaty chuckle, clucking with his tongue. “Such a brave Gryffindor.” He slowly sauntered forward, willing to finally allow her to see his face as the moon came out from behind a cloud and made his now paler skin glow with silvery luminosity.

Severus cocked his head slightly to the side, watching with fascination as his prey realized who the vampire truly was – the vampire she had heard about who traded blood for sex.

“No, it couldn't be,” Hermione breathed. Some long unanswered questions were put to rest and several new ones arose, but all the questions died in her throat when she was faced with the reality of who stood before her.

“It couldn't be what, Miss Granger?” A smirk spread across his lips, just enough to allow the tips of his fangs to show – he liked to add the effect to a victim’s first time. “It couldn't be that... you came here tonight to barter sex for blood with the vampire who was once called the ‘Greasy Git’ at Hogwarts? I know the students used to make disparaging remarks over me.” He moved with silent grace, his boots never making a sound as he slowly advanced towards her. “It couldn't be that... the wizard who once promised to always pine for Lily Potter would deign to tup another?” 

Hermione shook her head in reply to his conjectures, the whites of her eyes shining brightly as she stood agog. “No, it couldn’t be that you're alive. And I’m now Mrs. Weasley.”

Severus gave a disparaging laugh while placing his palms upward, his arms held out in supplication in mockery of what he had become. “I am not alive. I would have thought someone supposedly as _brilliant_ as you would know what a vampire truly is, despite your less than intelligent choice for a husband.”

Before Hermione could speak to correct herself, though she wasn't about to dispute his assessment of her marriage to Ron, Severus closed the distance between them quicker than even her witch senses could perceive. Sweeping her into his arms, he lifted her and braced her up against a stone wall, his hand cushioning the back of her head so it would not make impact with the sudden movement. His cloak enfolded them with its matte blackness – and with a spell so that others walking along the alley would perceive them as nothing more than a shadow at the end of an otherwise empty street. He could smell her blood in her veins and the fragrance of all the potions she’d used to wash herself that day.

Gasping from surprise that he had advanced on her so quickly without preamble, Hermione was able to finally look him in the eyes as he gazed down at her. This close, his hair had the sheen of a raven's wing, and his eyes looked as dark and soulless as any bottomless well. While his nose was just as prominent as ever, becoming a vampire had made him somewhat starkly beautiful, in the way that comely demons, anti-heroes and bad boys were alluring. She knew that the magic of a vampire’s nature created an illusion to entice his prey to come closer, yet that book knowledge did not stop her from being drawn to him. And his skin... it was like porcelain, yet it smelled lightly of flowers. It was a soft yet reassuring scent that emanated from his skin and breath, a naturally occurring scent meant to calm a cornered victim before consuming them. That scent was damnably effective!

Keeping her eyes fixed upon his, Hermione said with some defiance in her voice, “What I mean to say is that I am surprised that you are existing at all. After the Battle of Hogwarts, we went back to the Shrieking Shack to give you a proper hero's burial, but the place had burnt down – sometime during the battle, most likely.”

This was news to Severus that they had made any attempt to pay any respects to his corpse, but until recently Severus had been abroad and not kept up on any goings on in this country. Of course he knew about the fire, as his maker had set fire to the structure after turning Severus into her acolyte and lover – and before whisking him abroad to teach him many, many things over the next few years, until she had replaced him with her new acolyte. Severus had no complaints about being forgotten; it meant he was now free of her.

“How touching,” he said with little warmth. “And now that you are aware of my other worldly corporeality, give me a good reason as to why I should not take what blood I want from you, leaving your needs unfulfilled and then compelling you to forget you ever came across my existence?” He pulled his upper lip back to fully bare his fangs at her, hoping to quell her with intimidation and the threat of taking what he wanted against her will.

Hermione had the audacity to begin laughing softly. “Oh, but you have been away for a long time. Or you would be aware of the many inroads I made on behalf of disenfranchised beings such as yourself during my years in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.” When she saw his eye momentarily flicker wider, she knew she had surprised him. “I know how many of your kind exchange sexual favors for blood. And while I tried to create an exchange for such service using money in a respectable location instead of...” Her eyes swept over their surroundings to add sarcasm to her statement. “... requiring venereal transactions to be completed in charming locales such as this, it was something the Ministry was not quite open minded enough in which to see the benefits. However, that does not mean that I am above seeking a business transaction using _traditional_ methods.”

Severus had only recently returned to England after being gone for so many years, now that vampires were not treated as criminals for their mere existence. And though he should have felt grateful to Mrs. Weasley for improving conditions to the point where he could return, the pettiness in the cold blackness of his unbeating heart had not subsided over the years. Still, she had implied she was there for a business transaction, and if there was blood to be had, he would gladly take it. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to have some fun getting it from her.

“So, Mrs. Weasley, does the lion in your bed no longer perform, or has he found another lioness on which to bestow his favors?” he said in reference to her Gryffindor husband. His tone was unkind, reeking of the same disdain he dished out to her for all those years in his classroom.

“Your tone is not very conducive to a long-term arrangement,” she said very flatly, not put off by his attitude. Besides, she planned to have a quick fuck and then get back to work to finish some scrolls that were due before a meeting in the morning. “Or would you rather risk not having a steady supply of my blood to keep you fed, and hope that every other witch who saunters down here doesn't recognize you and balk at letting you have a nibble?”

“Fine,” he huffed with impatience as he began undoing his trousers. “Up against the wall is adequate, I assume?”

“Do we fuck and then you feed, or is it the other way around?” she asked, as if discussing some boring Ministry policy with her work associates.

“Usually both at the same time, as feeding arouses me,” Severus said blandly.

“Well, I can't have any bite marks on my neck. I have to go back to work when we're done, and I have nothing to cover up the marks – at least, nothing that will escape my colleagues’ revealing spells.” Hermione crossed her arms, aggrieved she might not be getting shagged tonight, if it was going to be such a bother and might be possibly noticed by her co-workers.

“Hang on. I have an idea,” Severus said with irritation. Looking around, he saw the bench in front of Pilliwinkle's Playthings. “There, sit,” he ordered her as if he was still dishing out detentions, pointing with a long, white finger to indicate where she was to go.

Hermione stomped over to the bench, which was concealed in further darkness than their current surroundings, harrumphing as she sat down. The inanimate stuffed animals and children's playthings in the window above her watched with indifference, witnesses to the whole sordid scene play out. There was no romance in having these button eyes gleaming with what little light there was, watching yet another conquest of Severus Snape, the vampire.

“With such an attitude, I can see why you're such an inspiration to your husband, as you're in need of coming to me for servicing,” he drawled. If this witch was going to make his task a chore with her demeanor, he was going to be as equally unpleasant as she was behaving.

Towering above her, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, kneeling in front of her. Placing his hands on her knees, he could feel her legs tremble, even initially twitching from first contact.

“It has been a while,” he said in silky tones. He could feel the sexual frustration in her coming off in waves; it was so palpable, like heat from a roaring fire felt across the room.

“Just don't leave any marks where they can be easily seen,” she threw back bitterly, but gasped when his cool hands began to part her knees while inching her skirt up her thighs. 

“Where I'll feed, I doubt even your husband has been close to in years, if at all,” he purred as his head slid down between her thighs.

Hermione looked about and noticed that even though they were hidden far away and cloaked by the darkness, they could still be discovered. She’d sensed the distraction spell on his cloak, but it was no longer covering them. Pulling out her wand, she whispered, “ _Protego totalum._ ”

When Severus lifted his head to regard her, she said merely, “Now we won't be bothered, and I can relax and get this done and over with.”

Severus was about to make some comment about enjoyment, but figured she would have to learn the hard way, as most stubborn witches needed to figure out first hand to become enlightened.

Hermione withheld a sigh as his hair grazed the inside of her thighs, making her feel as if she was being caressed with threads of silk. However, she did gasp loudly when he began tonguing his way up her thigh as his hands reached up under her skirt to tug at her practical cotton underpants. 

Lifting her hips up, she asked, “Are you going to feed and then fuck me?”

“Feeding with as little pain as possible requires a certain amount of arousal to reduce the pain when I puncture your skin. Trust me, arousal is better during the process,” he explained. Severus wanted her to enjoy this, as if there was a minimum of pain, she would surely come back to him and he would have a steady supply of blood instead of the usual try-it-once-and-never-again witches he usually fed upon.

With her knickers now slung around one ankle as they dragged on the ground, his fingers stroked her thighs lightly, eliciting restrained gasps of delight. Despite her cool and businesslike exterior, Mrs. Weasley was a thrumming tangled mess of overflowing sexual frustration ready to erupt at his slightest touch.

Her skirt hitched up now, he leaned down and blew gently across her curls between her legs, his cool breath from his lifeless body making the hairs stand on end, heightening the sensation. As his tongue trailed up her thigh, he teased her labia with his fingers. Severus almost chuckled to himself as she unconsciously spread her legs a bit wider for him now.

When his fingers glided across her clit, he felt her body buck and heard her take in a sharp intake of breath.

 _'Yes, it has been months, if not years, since you're had a proper fucking,'_ he thought to himself with smug satisfaction that she was so easy to elicit such a strong response to the simplest of his touches.

“Does that feel good?” he asked in an innocent tone from between her legs as his tongue reached higher and higher, the anticipation she was feeling evident in how badly her legs were shaking.

“Oh, oh yes,” she sighed dreamily.

Severus tentatively licked her outer labia as his fingers slipped lower and felt her slick with desire. With his long and nimble fingers, he slipped one into her as he ran his tongue across her clit.

Hermione was biting her lip to keep from crying out, and she was sure she had drawn blood.

It had been years since Ron had gone down on her and she had forgotten how good it felt, especially when done right.

Though Severus began his ministrations between her legs with the lightest and most tender of touches, the pace and intensity rose until he had his tongue deeply buried inside of her, and his fingers made deft work of bringing her close to climax.

It was all Severus could do not to bite down as he licked and lapped and sucked at her sex, tasting her juices that freely flowed, a sign she was not on a contraceptive and that she was ovulating. Yet another sign her husband has not been fucking her with any regularity, if at all. Severus could feel the tension in her body building, bringing her close. With all those endorphins coursing through her system, she was ready to be feasted upon. The blood rushing through her arteries and veins were calling to him like a Siren, begging him to be lost in the eternal bliss of the blood lust.

Replacing his tongue with his fingers instead, he kept up the pace, stroking and probing and bringing to the edge. Just as she began to cry out, Severus turned his head and sunk his teeth into her thigh.

Hermione's body jerked from the piercing sensation as Severus' teeth sunk into her, yet it was also quite pleasurable, stopping her orgasm with the sudden painful sensation. She grabbed his head and pushed it harder into her thigh, encouraging him to feast as his fingers thrust into her, finally pushing her over the edge.

Her body shuddered as her heart raced, pushing that blood through her body and into Severus' mouth, gushing and spurting.

Severus drank deeply, but made sure not to drain her too much. His own peak reached during that first swallow of her crimson life force. 

As Hermione came down from her orgasm, her breaths slowed and her heart beat a little slower, but no less powerfully.

Sensing, she was done, Severus slowly pulled his fangs from her thigh. He tenderly licked the puncture holes, his tongue secreting a special chemical to encourage clotting and healing after feeding.

But he was still not done. He still had a raging erection that was also in need of care, just like his blood lust.

Kneeling between her legs, he quickly undid his trousers and freed his cock. Before Hermione could register that Severus wasn't quite done, he quickly yanked her off the bench, wrapped her knees around his waist, and sunk himself into her.

Hermione' eyes flew open in surprise from being filled so quickly, and for the first time in months. She clasped onto Severus as he furiously pumped his hips, ramming into her. What's more, his body was now hot – especially the cock that was completely sunk into her. He had prepared her body and she readily accepted him, though it had been a long time since her last coupling. 

Clutching onto him with her legs, she used her arms to grasp the edge of the bench behind her, as he thrusted into her with a speed she didn't think possible. She came once more, tucking her head down onto his shoulder, letting the fabric of his cloak muffle her screams of pleasure.

Severus could not ejaculate. He was one of the undead, but that didn't mean he didn't reach his own orgasm, his carnal desires reaching their own peak. As he grunted, his hips stilled and she could feel his cock twitch, a hold-over from when his body was once human.

Sated, Hermione leaned back against the bench, her skirt still hitched up around her hips and her hair bun now askew and half undone.

“Oh God, I needed that. Now I can finish those reports tonight without hexing anyone I come across in the hallways,” she exhaled with great satisfaction.

 

Upon reflection later on, Hermione realized that this sort of arrangement with “Snape, the Vampire,” was exactly what she needed to stay sane. Since reaching her mid-thirties, Hermione's sex drive had gone into overdrive, yet Ron kept her unsatisfied. Part of that was because their marriage was in the slow process of disintegrating, getting on each other's nerves with greater and greater ease. In addition, the sex had gotten rather boring and predictable, no doubt hampered by their souring relationship. Plus, there was the fact that Ron had come out a few years prior as being bi-sexual, and that he and Draco had been having an on-and-off relationship on the side for over a decade. This was in addition to Ron’s occasional dalliances with Romilda Finch-Fletchley, née Vane, whenever she was on the outs with her husband, which was frequent.

One thing Hermione worried about with Ron was catching some wizarding form of a venereal disease, for which she took potions to prevent. This was in addition to downing a contraceptive vial, during the once-in-a-blue-moon when they would actually have sex.

With Snape, there was no risk of pregnancy nor was there any risk of venereal diseases, since in his vampiric state, his body would purge and destroy all diseases, including venereal ones. Plus, Snape was not a sentimental fool, so she didn't have to deal with pointless small talk or conventional niceties, such as dinner or dates to get in the way of their transactions.

 

As Hermione pushed the small stack of Galleons towards the inn’s proprietor, she noticed his eyes dart to her wedding band.

“So you need a room, but not for the whole night, you say, Miss, erm, Schwarzenegger?” he asked, mangling the false last name she put in the ledger. She had used a famous movie star's last name, and that was the first one that came to mind; she doubted a Pureblood wizard would recognize a Muggle actor’s name.

“Close enough. Yes, I need some peace and quiet in which to work and can't find any at work or home, so your establishment suits my needs,” she lied easily. 

_'Perhaps I should just buy that small cottage near Wychwood-under-Owlnest so I don't have to go through so much bother in the future.'_

Hermione had been dreaming of having a little cottage in which to have her private library and work undisturbed without children disturbing her careful notes, or Ron using one of her favorite books to prop up a wobbly table leg, much to her distress.

 

Severus was famished. It took another two weeks before she came back to him requesting another appointment to take care of her needs. In the mean time, he had only had two witches and one wizard seek him out; one witch was so petite, anything more than a few sips and he would have drunk her dry. And only when he was truly hungry would he entertain the prospect of buggering another wizard, but this wizard was a large and stocky fellow with a large supply of blood to partake of. Besides, in the midst of the blood lust, one hole felt like any other as he drilled away while drinking, but it was not his preference.

He came to the little inn she wrote down in her Owl to him. She said she would leave the door ajar for him.

Coming upon room number four, he paused and gently rapped upon the door frame.

“You may enter,” she called out, knowing he could not come in unless invited.

Once in the room, her blood scent filled his nostrils. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he unconsciously bared his teeth.

Before Hermione could warn Snape she was menstruating, he swept across the room and gathered her in his arms, throwing her on the bed. There was the distinctive rip of satin underpants being torn before Severus roughly yanked her skirt up and feasted on the menstrual flow between her legs.

As much as Hermione was appreciative of Snape getting down to business without wasting her valuable time, even she was amazed at how quickly he got to work.

This time, no longer caring if she made noise – although she still cast up a Silencing Charm before Snape entered the room so they would not be overheard – Hermione cried out as Snape's tongue, which seemed just a bit longer than any normal human tongue, lapped at her entrance, devouring the menstruation that began the other day and was at peak flow that day. She had not timed their encounter to coincide with her cycle, but she was pleased he was not put off by it, unlike her husband. In fact, Snape seemed to be enjoying this even more so than their first encounter.

She stroked his hair lovingly in appreciation of the talented and much appreciated work he was doing to and for her.

Despite how lost she was in Snape's enthusiastic feasting between her legs, she did not miss his groans that one would normally equate with eating something quite savory and satisfying, as he slurped and smacked his lips periodically.

Hermione climaxed for the third time with Snape making no move to take his mouth away from the font of ambrosia. She asked for a moment's rest only when Snape finally lifted his head from between her legs, looking at her properly for the first time that night.

There was blood smeared all over his face, and his eyes glittered with delight as if filled with fire in their blackness. He smiled at her, and for once it was not filled with the hint of maliciousness she remembered from her school years.

Sliding off the bed, he helped Hermione finally remove her clothes, offering to help take care of the large blood spot that was on the back of her skirt, as he had not removed them in his haste to devour her. But first, there were other matters to finish.

As she laid there on the bed nude, somewhat self-conscious about her stretch marks from two pregnancies or how her breasts were beginning to sag slightly, Severus began to undress.

Hermione could have insisted that they could always keep her clothes on for expediency, and to keep it more impersonal. However, if she was going to get fucked, then she supposed the whole experience of feeling bare skin against skin would certainly make the experience more fulfilling, and therefore worth the effort of letting Snape drink her blood with regularity.

Severus let her watch him undress. It had been a while since he had had a sexual encounter this intimate that didn't involve back alleys, moonlit fields or empty loo stalls at a pub, all of which entailed merely unbuttoning the fly on his trousers. Granted, Mrs. Weasley had made it clear this was nothing more than a business arrangement. This was a change from some who had wanted him to turn them and take them on as his lover and acolyte. Thus, for the fact she didn't want to complicate things with those type of long-term arrangements, he was willing to put a bit of extra effort into the experience for her.

Hermione didn't know why Snape was bothering with trying to seduce her. She was a certain source for blood, and she knew she was going to get shagged good and proper. But it still didn't stop her from appreciating the view of Snape taking his clothes off for her. What surprised her most was that the living human Professor Snape she once knew had greasy, lank hair, was drawn and haggard, and was not even mildly attractive. But the vampire version of Snape she had finally acquainted herself with was muscularly lean, fit, as if the transformation had turned him into the man at his physical peak, had the circumstances for Snape's life had been different. His hair took on a lustrous sheen, his skin was smooth with a strange glow that made Hermione think of moths drawn to flames, and even his face was more pleasing to the eye. He was quite the piece of eye candy to behold, and Hermione knew he would always remain this way while her own body would continue to deteriorate over time, a fate she willingly embraced, knowing how hard the life of a vampire was.

Still, she enjoyed the slow shedding of his clothes, thankful he at least cleaned the blood from his face and rinsed his mouth out. Until then, he’d had the look of a maniacal madman when he smiled at her with his blood-smeared face and bits of uterine lining still clinging to his fangs.

Since Snape had partially fed, he was already aroused, and Hermione finally got a good look at what he was sporting between his legs. No wonder she felt thoroughly fucked with that piece of meat last time. She wondered if being turned into a vampire improved the length and girth of his cock, in addition to his body, or was he naturally well hung before he was turned. Suddenly, the thought of her seventeen-year-old virgin self serving detention with Snape in the dungeon – and getting fucked while bent over a brewing bench – made the corner of her lip curl up until she was fully smiling.

“Something amusing you?” Severus asked, noticing how her eyes appraised his body with new found appreciation.

“Just appreciating the view,” she mused. Glancing down at his cock, she asked, “Had I known you were so well endowed back then, paying attention in Potions class would have been significantly more difficult.”

“Had you been distracted in class, you would have served more detentions, but with none of the 'punishment' you might have been hoping for.” He crawled up onto the bed and settled himself between her thighs, his body now warmer now that he had partially fed.

“Pity. Might have saved me the bother had I known what a good fuck was back then before I married Ron,” she confessed unabashedly.

“That bad?” he asked as he grabbed his cock and guided it gently into her this time, her menstruation acting as lubricant.

“No,” she sighed as she closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of being filled once more by him. “Let's just say we lack compatibility, as it seems Draco and Romilda seem to find him to be a suitable lover.”

Severus thought about how her attitude last week could have also been a significant damper on their compatibility as well, but he decided that it would be quite unwise to chase off the cow before he finished milking it.

Rocking his hips slowly into her, trying to tease her into a slow building of another orgasm, he said, “Then we shall have to see if our compatibility is more suitable for your proposed long-term arrangement.” He punctuated the last word with a quick jerk of the hips, pushing himself a little deeper into her, which made her eyes flash open wide momentarily before becoming half-closed in their bliss-like state once more.

“Last week seemed to convince me that while personality-wise we may or may not be suitable, in terms of your body and mine...” she paused as she began breathing harder and lifted her legs higher and wider for him, “... it seems to feel quite compatible for me.”

Severus did have to admit Hermione's body was quite suitable for him. While she was not some empty-headed nubile witch, she still had a very attractive body for her age. She was far better than many a witch that came to him – witches who had a few children, several years of mundane marriage, and far too many bonbons behind them. And she was not prone to idle chatter or demanding that he say corny romantic phrases or trite stereotypical lines – or making him read from some vampire-themed romance novel to get her in the mood.

“And you, when you are willing to let yourself enjoy the moment, are quite a pleasure to have, besides your blood,” he admitted. She was quite the wild woman last week when he had her.

“Platitudes to ensure I come back to you, enticed by sweet words and soft saying?” she asked. “You don't have to seduce me, just fuck me.”

“Part of fucking is the ability to admit what one enjoys from the other.” Severus hitched her thighs up over his arms and began to thrust into her deeper and with more force. “Telling you the truth that I enjoyed you clutching onto me with desperation, and hearing you scream my name into my shoulder as I ravaged you, was quite pleasurable for me, besides you.” 

Hermione didn't remember that she called out his name, only that she had her best orgasm in years when she came, and afterwards felt more relaxed than she had in ages. “Well,” she began to try and reply, but her breath caught in her throat as Severus leaned his head down and took one of her nipples into his mouth and began alternatively sucking and gently biting it at the same time. 

“Oh fuck...” she merely groaned with delirium and arched her back to press her breast into his mouth harder.

Severus chuckled to himself as he slowed the pace of his hips and let go of her nipple, which had two tiny puncture marks just above her areola now. As he licked the holes closed, he asked, “Will I have to be inventive again tonight regarding where I may feed, or will you be wearing a high-necked blouse when you leave tonight?”

Hermione looked at her otherworldly lover and suddenly felt her stomach tighten and flutter. She hadn't felt a sensation like that in years and wondered if it was the taboo aspect of willingly being fed upon while fucked by a vampire that made her feel this way, or was it the fact that Snape was gazing down at her in such a way that she felt desired and aroused, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. While she didn't plan to let him feed upon her neck, she did bring a change of clothes just in case.

Letting go of control for once, she craned her neck to the side and invited him to sup from her there.

She turned her head to the side and shut her eyes closed tight, anticipating the pain from the puncture marks to come, similar to when he bite her thigh last week.

Severus could feel her nervousness make her body tense. While her body was moving in time with him, now she was stiff as cardboard and nervous as a virgin during her first sexual encounter.

Laying his body on top of her as he continued to slowly rock into her, he stroked her face, brushing her hair away. “Relax,” he purred in a sultry voice.

Hermione squinted her eyes closed tighter.

“Look at me,” he bid her.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and found him gazing down at her with great intensity. Even before Snape became a vampire, his eyes were quite mesmerising. She wondered if he would employ Legilimency on her in this intimate state, or was this merely some ploy to calm her before he fed.

He felt her body begin to relax. One hand stroked her thigh, and the other hand began caressing her face once more. “May I kiss you,” he asked in all sincerity.

It had escaped her notice until that moment that despite what they had engaged in, they had not yet kissed.

“Yes,” she breathed, smelling the faint smell of flowers emanating from his breath. She wondered if he would taste like flowers, too.

With a tenderness that Hermione did not think him capable of, he brushed his lips against hers, and Hermione gave an audible sigh of delectation. 

He could feel her body become more pliant and accepting with each fond gesture he bestowed upon her. Severus hated to admit this, but he was actually enjoying this. He viewed her as a puzzle box to solve; each piece not only painted a clearer picture of Hermione Weasley, but also gave each other pleasure in turn.

Severus pressed his lips against hers softly and found her kissing him back with equal tenderness. It was her tongue that sought permission to enter, and he parted his lips.

Hermione felt the sharp tips of his fangs as she insinuated her tongue leisurely his mouth, beginning a slow dance with his. Her hands moved up to caress his face in return of the gesture, playing with his hair.

With each quiet intimacy, Hermione relaxed more. Soon their kisses became more hungry, an equitable game of back and forth, one tongue plundering another mouth before retreating and the other advancing, all the while Severus increasing the urgency of his thrusts into Hermione's loins.

Severus let his mouth trail down from hers, peppering her face with kisses, nipping at her jaw line with his lips. As he dragged his lips across her neck, he heard her sigh, feeling her blood pulsing loudly through her skin. He tongued her pulse point along her neck and felt her arch her back once more, her hand stroking the back of his head.

Braced above her on one elbow, he licked and nipped at her neck while his other hand snaked down between her bodies, as her thighs moved in time, caressing his flanks with each rocking of his hips.

As he began to stroke her clit with a quick fluttering movement, he pressed his lips harder against her neck, sucking at the skin.

Hermione felt herself close, she was almost there. Her breaths were becoming quicker and shallower.

As she crested, Hermione pressed the back of his head so his mouth was pressed harder against her neck, and croaked out a shuddering, “Yes.”

Severus sank his teeth into her as she clamped down around him in the midst of an orgasm.

Oh, there were few things sweeter in this afterlife than snug quim quivering around his manhood while that first gush of blood entered his mouth. He groaned in the midst of his own orgasm and thrust with unleashed fury into her while drawing deeply. He did not have to pull it from her body unwillingly, since her heart was beating strongly and feeding him so freely.

Hermione unleashed a scream of expletives that upon further reflection he did not think she was acquainted with, but they were idioms that expressed the pleasure she felt within the moment.

As Severus laid there limply atop of her, Hermione caressed his back, with her legs and arms still wrapped around him.

Finally, he rolled off of her to lay there on his back, his body dabbled with Hermione’s sweat that now clung to him where their skin touched.

As Hermione gasped, trying to catch her breath, she asked, “If you teach me to brew the Blood-Replenishing Potion, can we do this once or twice each week, instead of every two weeks?”

 

Ron had the good graces not to say anything when Hermione's mood improved substantially in a very short period of time. He also did not object to Hermione insisting she needed a small private cottage of her own in which she could work undisturbed, especially since the children were away most of the year and would not be asking why Mummy couldn't just work from home with a good old-fashioned Do Not Disturb Charm on her study door. There were no remarks from him about why she would need her own cottage now, nor her new penchant for wearing high-necked blouses.

As Hermione finished putting her Herbology reference books away in the cottage’s library-cum-parlor, there was a knock at the door.

Rushing over, she opened it. Smiling at her guest, she said, “You may enter, and you are always welcome here until I say otherwise.”

Severus entered the small cottage and looked about, noting how it reminded him of Spinner's End in a good way in that the walls were already mostly lined with books. There were still a few boxes to unpack, and those books would fill the remaining empty shelves.

Oh, how Severus missed his books. Unfortunately, his maker would not allow him to go back and retrieve his books from his former home. His entire library had been given to Hogwarts posthumously, so he knew it was mostly in safe keeping, if the students didn't damage his precious books. Also unfortunately, Severus' maker did not share the same love of books as he had, which made his desire in the evenings to go to the local bookstore an inconvenience when he was first ordered the task of procuring dinner for them both once the sun went down. By the time he found some local villager to entice back to the castle, snacked on him or her, and returned the now paler villager back to where he or she was snatched him from, the bookstore was usually closed.

Hermione promised to allow him free access to peruse her library and even had the basement expanded so he could keep a small library of his own below, since she sun-proofed the basement for his convenience. Severus had his own place in which to stay, but Hermione’s cottage was a place in which he could also stay if they had both stayed up all night long and he could not make it back to his own lair before dawn, something that happened at least once before. It also helped there was a small Potions laboratory she outfitted down there as well, so she could brew her Blood-Replenishing Potion without Ron looking at her curiously anymore.

Oh yes, this was quite the business arrangement. Sex for blood. Of course, there was no friendship between them, though there were those times they spent several hours into the night talking, reading together in companionable silence. Then there was his advice from a Slytherin's point of view on how to deal with some members within the Ministry, as Hermione continued to climb Ministry ladders. However, there was certainly nothing romantic and endearing about their relationship. Nope, definitely not. No way. 

Stepping over the threshold, he let out a sigh of relief. No more strange little inns with some proprietors recognizing her as a high-level Ministry official, which required the usual memory adjustment charm. Now they could both come and go as they pleased without having to Owl arrangements ahead of time, especially given that he could no longer travel by Floo since that particular magic only worked with living wizards. Fortunately, flying around as a vampire afforded him flexibility on transportation in some ways.

Entering the main room, he inhaled. He could smell the familiar scent of parchment, leather, paste, and paper mites. He could also smell that Hermione had just started her cycle again. Severus' eyes rolled up into his head, his nostrils filled with her scent.

Without warning, he crossed the room with great speed, his cloak flapping with the sudden gust of movement.

Before Hermione could react, Severus had her spun around and bent over her new desk. There was a flurry of movement as her trousers were roughly yanked down and her panties shoved only halfway down her thighs, before Severus quickly lubed himself up and thrust into Hermione, penetrating her ass.

She cried out at the sudden intrusion, only having just recovered from the last time Severus fucked her there a few days prior.

He had her arms pinned behind her back as he pumped his hips into her, as she cried out with each thrust.

“You have all the makings of a beautiful submissive,” he said with cool dispassion.

“Why do you say that?” she asked, plaintively sighing now with each time he entered and withdrew from her. She really did enjoy love the feeling of being overpowered by him and fucked senselessly.

“A powerful witch, always in charge, always in control. The only time you can ever really relax and give up the illusion of control is when I'm fucking you as if you are my plaything.”

“Yes, but ultimately it is I who is in control. I give you permission when to bite me, when you may take me,” she reminded him as she pushed back against him despite his firm grip on her.

Leaning forward and jerking his hips with quick thrusts that made her gasp, he growled, “Yes, but you love the illusion that for once you're not in control. That for once you don't have to be in charge, a pretty illusion that you seem to enjoy. Isn't that right?”

“Yes... yes, sir.” Just saying that phrase made her want to orgasm right there.

Over these many weeks, they had skirted deeper and deeper into the territory of Master and servant with a little bit of role playing. As they explored this new area, they set boundaries as needed. 

Hermione didn't have time in her busy schedule to go out to dinner or make with small talk for the romance of an extramarital affair; thank goodness Severus could dine and shag simultaneously. However, she did have the time and energy for a bit of sexual role play, especially if it made her orgasm like gangbusters, which it did.

Yanking her shirt aside to expose the nape of her neck, she said, “What are you waiting for, my little mosquito.” It was her pet name for him meant to nettle him, especially when he was being dominant. That name usually made him bite her harder and more roughly to make her feel just how he was not little, especially when fucking her with his well endowed gifts, and that he was no insect that drew only a few drops of blood, but could drain her dry if he desired.

He leaned forward and bit down, knowing she was not fully aroused yet and would feel the sting of his bite.

Hermione bucked against him, arching her back in response to the sensation of his cock ramming into her and his teeth piercing her neck.

The desk was thankfully a sturdy and well-made piece. Surely, if it was anything less, it would have broken, given the rigorous shagging going on between those two until Hermione finally came. 

As Severus laid atop Hermione, his tongue licking at the puncture marks on the top of her shoulder as she caught her breath, she grabbed the top of his hand and kissed it.

“Come, I'll show you the shower where we can rinse off before you begin dessert, since my cycle started today,” she announced with a gleam in her eye.

It was quite ironic how years ago Ron joked about Snape having a rack in which to torture students in the dungeons at Hogwarts, and here she was entertaining the idea of installing one in the basement if they wanted to continue perusing that whole Dominant/submissive thing that was blooming between them. Yes, a rack – even though she had a perfectly good bed that was large enough for them both to lounge in while reading, when they weren't fucking their brains out. 

 

With Severus shagging her with regularity, Hermione was able to completely focus at work without hexing anyone anymore. She also found that with the addition of Severus advising her, she discovered the wheels at work moving more smoothly and advancement was a definite possibility. Too bad openly admitting having a vampire as a lover was political poison, but her goal of S.P.E.W. was once met with similar initial disdain. Hermione was more than willing to take on yet another social justice pet project to add to her otherwise busy schedule.

Perhaps her goal of becoming Minister of Magic would happen before she turned fifty, with Severus by her side. Yes, this was quite the perfect 'business arrangement' they had after all.


End file.
